Another Awakening
by papergirl815
Summary: If she had survived the operation.Melchior/Wendla
1. Chapter 1

She would come.

Melchior was certain. She couldn't- she wouldn't leave him here alone. But in this moment, however short, he was alone.

xXI do not own Spring Awakening. If I did I would sure as hell not be writing terrible

"Wendla?" He wanted to scream it, to yell for her until she heard, but his voice came out a whisper. It was seven minutes past midnight and every second Melchior was becoming more anxious.

He had already decided that he would stay for another hour, at least. He might even spend the night here, in this graveyard. After all, he had no better place to sleep.

Melchior walked to the newer side of the graveyard, looking for her all the while. He sat down and leaned his back against a head stone. It simply read "Moritz Stiefel", lacking the "Here Lies, In God" that could be found on the surrounding markers.

He had only just closed his eyes when he heard footsteps. Melchior sprang to his feet, and even more softly than his first attempt, called her name.

"Wendla." The intensity, the longing, in Melchior's voice surprised even him.

She turned around slowly. Then upon seeing it was truly Melchior, Wendla closed the distance between them in several quick strides, embracing him.

"Melchi, I thought you were gone. I didn't think I would ever see you again." Her words were rushed, and if her face had not been pressed against his shirt Melchior was certain he wouldn't have heard.

"I missed you," He answered simply.

She took a small step backward and asked him, voice still soft, if he had gotten any of her letters.

It was only then that he realized how different Wendla looked. Her already small frame seemed thinner, and she was definitely paler than she had been the last time he had seen her. Wendla's eyes were red, as if she had been crying, and they seemed less lively.

"I got the last letter, but none before that." Melchior wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of Wendla's head. He continued, "I came as soon as I found out about…what happened. " Melchior took a nervous-sounding breath, "Our child."

When Wendla heard that word she let out a wail and he could feel her hot tears on his neck. "Melchi…I don't know…It was terrible." Her words were punctuated by heavy breaths, and Melchior knew it killed her to tell this story.

"My mother, she…she took me. She left me at this dreadful place…They cut me, cut it out. I was so weak." Her tears flowed more heavily now." Afterwards I had to be carried home. The bleeding was awful. They thought I would die, and honestly I wanted to."

"Wendla, I don't understand. "She didn't mean- no. That was foolish. They could never." You're saying it- the child is gone?" Melchior was shocked. He knew that they could do horrible things, but this?

She could only nod.

The realization hit Melchior like a blow, and he sunk to the ground. Wendla knelt beside him, arms twined around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. Wendla, I'm so sorry." He voice was desperate, pleading for forgiveness. "I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have let them send me away."

"You couldn't have done anything."He didn't look at her, just stared at a spot on the ground." Melchi please." She couldn't take him blaming himself." It's not your fault."

"If I was here I could have-"

"No." Her voice was stronger, more commanding now." It was impossible." He seemed sated, and took her into his arms. They lay in the grass, staring up at the stars for the longest time.

After the lingering silence she asked "What will we do?"

Melchior thought for a solid minute before saying "I have no fucking clue," with a completely flat voice.

And they laughed, despite themselves. After the giggling had died down Wendla rested her head on his shoulder and whispered "I love you." A grin spread across his face, and Melchior kissed her, like he hadn't since that night in the hayloft.

Wendla pulled away, still savoring the taste of him. She said "I should go. My mother will look for me." With a sigh he loosened his embrace.

"Stay. Just for tonight, please. "The joking tone from earlier disappeared, his voice utterly serious and pleading." You can go back in the morning. She won't even know you've gone."

She didn't take much convincing. And after a while they both feel into a deep, dreamless sleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

The End

AN// Should I continue, or is this so terrible that a second chapter would kill small, furry, woodland creatures with it's awfulness?


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I still do not own Spring Awakening; however, I wish I did.

And, my chapters will be relatively short so that I can update the story faster. If you'd rather have longer chapters further in between please say so in a comment/review/thing. Please review. Constructive criticism is very helpful.

Melchior's eyes were so heavy with sleep that when he was awoken by the first rays of dawn, he could barely mange to lift them. He took a moment to look down at the sleeping girl lying beside him, before saying "Wendla, wake up." She looked so peaceful, so calm just lying there, head resting on his chest, and he hated to disturb her, but she needed to get back to her mother before she was missed. She groaned lightly and mumbled something about penitential robes before yawning and opening her eyes.

Wendla smiled slightly, looking satisfied when she saw that he was still there. Melchior said "You'll need to be getting back soon. " And with that all the satisfaction left her face, replaced with worry.

"I don't want to go back, without you. What will you do Melchi?" She sounded so concerned, for him, who had done this terrible thing to her. "Where will you go?" A long silence followed. Melchior didn't have an answer.

Wendla's voice became fevered, quick and worried. She had a plan. "I'll go back, just for today. I can take some things, some money and we can leave. Be rid of this place forever."

"We have nowhere to go." That was true. They had no friends, no family that would accept them, at least none that lived far enough away.

"We can find somewhere. Make our place in this world." Wendla sounded so hopeful when she said this. It was breaking his heart to hear her go on about something he knew could never happen. But, was weak and decided to indulge her. "Moritz wanted to go to America. He asked my mother for the money." Melchior was quiet for a moment, lost in his memories. "I found a letter on the desk in the study." He said by way of explanation.

"We could go there. Melchi we could go. "

"Wendla, we can't. How would we survive?" He realized how sharp his tone was a moment too late.

"We don't have any other options .You can't go back home." She sounded apologetic, like it was somehow her fault.

He pleaded with her now, told her not to waste her life on him. "Yes? I'm the one who can't go home Wendla. You can. You can stay in this town, grow up to be normal. Live a happy life."

"Melchi you know that's impossible." Wendla placed a hand tenderly on the side of his face. "Not after everything we've gone through. Not after you."

"You'd give all this up? For me? You're sure?"He couldn't believe it. This girl, who he had only dreamt about, wanted him, truly wanted him, the way that no one else had his entire life.

"Melchior, why do you even ask?" She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him passionately. After a moment Melchior pulled away. "You have to be certain, Wendla, completely certain. You can't go back."

"I love you, and I'm sure." Her voice was painfully honest, and the eyes that looked into Melchior's were so open, so trustworthy. "And now I've got to go."

Melchior watched her button her dress and lace her shoes, then finally stand and brush off her skirt, an appreciative grin on his face.

"Come to my hayloft tonight, at midnight. We can sleep there, and leave before first light."

She threw her arms around him and gave him a peck on the lips. He whispered "I love you." into her ear.

Her smile grew so wide it took up half of her face. The light was back.

Melchior watched her run in the direction of her house, curls bouncing, and dress flying upward just a bit to reveal the very tops of her stockings, the shock of white flesh just above them. He'd miss her today.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I do not own Spring Awakening.

Thank you all so much for the positive reviews. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside XD

This is really short, I know. The next part should be up very, very soon (tonight or tomorrow).

And more characters are coming in within the next chapter or two, I promise.

Wendla had managed to get home in ten minutes.

She would have been faster, if the damned pain hadn't come back. She had been hurting constantly since the operation, although it had receded into a dull throbbing as of late. But, and she supposed it was from the running, the searing pain had come back. Thankfully Wendla had only been a short distance from her house when it happened, or she would have never managed to limp home.

Wendla pulled herself through the window and slid out of her dress and shoes before collapsing into bed. She didn't know how much later it was when her mother woke her. "Wendla, child, the doctor is here to see you." Wendla sat up abruptly, and a sharp burst of white-hot pain shot through her. She let out small yelp of pain."Please, Mama, no. Don't let- don't let him touch me again." Her voice was small; pathetic and pleading. Her mother did not relent, her face remained entirely unsympathetic.

"Don't be absurd. Come in, Doctor." He walked through the door, slowly as if he were testing the waters. He walked over to the terrified girl and her mother. "She's still bleeding."Frau Bergman told him, "She has no energy, either. She can hardly walk."

"That's unusual. It's been two weeks?" His tone was crisp, professional.

Her mother nodded yes.

"I'll look and see if there's anything I can do." When he put his hand on her, Wendla screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

AN// This took me longer than I thought it would to write. I had most of it done when I posted the last chapter, but then I realized my characterization was way off, so I re-wrote the entire thing. Please review and tell me if I messed up the characters too badly. And I swear this is relevant. //

He was gone. Moritz was gone. _No, not gone_, Martha corrected herself, _dead_. She couldn't believe it. He had been here just a few days ago.

She let herself think back to the last time she had seen Moritz, alive. He had stumbled into the church, late again. His hair had been a mess, his clothes wrinkled as if he had slept in them, and all of him was sopping wet from the downpour outside.

They were rehearsing for the Michaelmas Chorale. Well, all of them except Melchior Gabor, who hadn't come to church in a year, and Wendla, who had slipped out less than five minutes ago. Martha saw her, trying to be discreet, but Wendla had dropped something that looked like a book, on her way out. Everyone had turned to look, but she just kept going. If Martha had tried anything like that she would have been beaten black and blue.

Moritz seemed distracted the entire time, brushing off all of her attempts to talk to him. He had rushed out as soon as we were dismissed. Off to be alone. Off to die.

Martha blamed herself. She thought that maybe if she had tried harder, maybe if she had said the right thing she wouldn't be here right now at Moritz's funeral.

She missed him. Missed his soulful eyes, his messy hair. She couldn't imagine that someone so full of life could be snuffed out like that. By his own hand, even.

_Oh God_. She'd have to leave soon. Martha couldn't be here with all these people, these numb bodies. Their eyes were dry. She was sobbing already, when she hadn't even seen him yet. Martha was so glad her father hadn't come. He'd be disgusted by her display of emotion over such a sin.

Melchior stood next to where Moritz lay. He looked more shocked than saddened, still, a stray tear would run down his face every so often. Martha had never seen him like this. He was no longer the self-assured, slightly cocky, golden boy she had seen him as.

Herr Stiefel stood on the opposite end of the casket looking indifferent.

One by one, the mourners stepped up to the casket, dropped a flower, said a few words. Wendla was before Martha. She was dabbing away her tears with a worn handkerchief when it was her turn. Wendla looked at Moritz, dropped her flower, and then turned to Melchior. She spoke softly, and placed a hand on his arm. She let it rest there for a moment longer than necessary before walking past Herr Stiefel.

Martha was next. She walked, head slightly bowed, to the coffin. She could hardly bare to see him, lying so still. She let her flower fall, watched it come to rest, and then hurried off to join those who had already seen the body.

_The body?_ Not a week gone, and he's become the body. Martha wondered how long it will take for this town to forget Moritz entirely. She didn't think it would be long. This place liked to wash away it's sins. If they couldn't be washed away they were buried or forgotten.

It was then Martha noticed Ilse. She wasn't crying, though her puffy, red eyes suggested she had been. Martha hadn't talked to Ilse since that day in the woods, when she told her what her father did.

To Martha's shock, Ilse had understood. She had gone through it too. But the difference between the girls was that Ilse was strong. She had escaped.

Martha didn't want to be outcast like Ilse was. She didn't want to live in Priapia, or any other artist's colonies. The stories Ilse had told Martha…They sounded worse than what her father had done. Martha crossed over to Ilse and mumbled a greeting. Ilse's eyes lit up when she saw Martha, just for a moment, then she sunk back into her silent grief.

Martha tried again. "Where have you been staying, these last few days?"

Here and there." After seeing Martha's look she continued." Barns, mostly. No one here locks their doors," She said this as if it were a criticism. Ilse looked around before whispering "How _are_ you?" Martha knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Not for a week… though two days ago I was beaten." She almost cracked. The tears would have come back if Ilse hadn't rested a reassuring hand on her arm." It wasn't half as bad as they usually are, though. The Christmas season tends to improve his spirits." Martha said, a little optimistically.

"Martha. Come with me. You need to be away from him." Ilse was almost begging, and Martha was doing her best to ignore it. "And I'll always need someone to keep me out of trouble. Who better for the job than you? "Ilse wondered if being needed would draw Martha away.

"I can't. I'll end up a beggar, and I'll never marry," Martha was rambling now. All of her nervous energy was bubbling to the surface. "And I'll die on the streets wrapped in rags."

"You're so melodramatic!" Ilse cried, exasperated.

At this, Martha just rolled her eyes.

Ilse gave it a final try."I can't do this alone. Together, we can get out of this place. We can leave Germany, even!' She was so hopeful. " I hear America's nice. We could go there. Find work. Improve ourselves. And the best part is: we wouldn't rely on anyone but each other," She grew quieter now, more intimate. "No one could hurt us like that ever again." Martha's eyes almost overflowed.

"You're absurd." But Martha still took Ilse's hand, and led her off into the night.

//This will all come together.

Thanks for reading //


	5. Chapter 5

Hello people who still bother to read this. I'm sorry It's been a while since I updated, but I'm working on a massive paper for school and It's consumed all of my time. Thanks for reading, and please leave constructive criticism and/or comments.

XxX

Melchior leaned against the bale of hay behind him and closed his eyes. He was waiting for her again, for second time in as many days. It was one in the morning, making Wendla an hour late. Melchior would wait for her, of course. He didn't think she would back out, not with how she sounded in the graveyard that morning. He figured her mother had stayed up late, or paid more attention to Wendla than usual. She would come, as she had the night before, Melchior was certain. He decided to let himself sleep. Wendla would wake him when she got to the hayloft. There was no use being exhausted for tomorrow.

XxX

Ilse lead Martha through the heavy doors, pausing to close them carefully so they would not bang shut. She peeled the wet shawl of her head and shook out her short hair. The heavy rain outside had soaked them both to the skin. Martha left her head covered. Her eyes darted around the barn nervously. "Ilse, he's not here. We have to leave before the Gabors find us."

"We haven't even looked around yet." Ilse turned around to look at her companion as if she were disappointed with her lack of adventure. "Maybe he's fallen asleep."She walked down the length of the barn, searching. After a brief examination of the place, Ilse began the climb up to the second floor.

Martha glanced at the door, before following Ilse up the short ladder.

"Melchior Gabor?" Ilse called out.

There was no response. The girls walked slowly, intently searching. "Melchi? " They found him against the back wall, head buried in the crook of his arm. He was breathing heavily.

Ilse, always blunt, poked him in the shoulder repeatedly until he awoke. Melchior gasped and reached for his pocket, almost instinctively before he realized who was there. His eyes widened when he recognized the two figures before him.

"Ilse? Martha? I haven't seen you two in ages." He smiled slightly, recalling a night from long ago, when they were children and allowed to play together."What are you doing here?"

"It's Wendla." It was Martha who spoke up this time.

Melchior's face became serious again. His concern was plain to see. "What's happened?"

"I went to see her, this afternoon. Frau Bergman told everyone that Wendla was ill, that she was anemic." Martha explained." I thought she had to be doing rather poorly…I hadn't seen her out for two weeks. Her mother wouldn't let me in, at first. I had to beg, practically." She seemed embarrassed." But she allowed me to see her, for a moment. Wendla looked awful, so ill. She was as pale as her bed sheets. She didn't say anything about it, but every minute or so she would wince, especially when she tried to move. It looked like she was in a lot of pain. " Melchior's face betrayed just a hint of sorrow, before becoming a mask that showed no emotion. "She told me to come here, to tell you what happened. She gave this to me." Martha handed him a letter, from her pocket. The paper was wrinkled, the ink ran a little.

Melchior read it silently. His expression remained blank.

"Thank you for coming, in this weather." He choked out.

Martha took this as their queue to leave. She told Melchior goodbye and waited while Ilse did the same. They walked back out into the rainy night, leaving him alone.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I do not, nor have I ever owned Spring Awakening.

XxX

Wendla awoke to a sound like rain on her window. She pulled herself up in bed, moaning out over the pain the adjustment caused her. _Damn, _Wendla thought, _now she'll come back_. Frau Bergman had been awake all night, fussing over Wendla in her bed.

Wendla was almost sick every time her mother laid a hand on her. To think that she had let him touch her that way, let him reach in and extinguish the strange yet wonderful light inside her. After the surgery, it wasn't just the physical pain, even though that was the most insistent ache. Wendla could barely think for a week after, she was so consumed by the white-hot pain. But, after that had passed, she felt strangely empty. It were as if she was drowning, all senses numbed by the rush. Wendla missed him so much then. She knew he could help her feel again, he could fill the void the doctor had left in her.

The window across the room creaked open, ever so slowly. Wendla would have screamed, had she not recognized the face in the window.

"Melchi?" She was beyond shocked to see him here, in her room. To think he was here even after she had written him the note, telling him he could go without her. He could leave her behind like all the bad memories from this wretched town.

Melchior pulled himself through the window, careful to land lightly on his feet. He rushed to her, and took her hand into his own. "What happened?"

And with that the tears fell. Wendla could not contain them any longer. She couldn't deal with this place full of fake smiles and false cheer; she needed something in her life to be real. Melchior sat down on the bed and gathered her in his arms, careful not to jostle her too much. She put her arms around him, letting a hand rest in his rain soaked hair.

Wendla's voice was barely above a whisper. She sounded hoarse, tired."It happened again, Melchi."

"What?"His arms drew tighter around her.

"He came back, the doctor. He looked to see if I was healing." An involuntary shudder ripped through her shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"No. No I'm not." Her voice was sharp, almost hysterical.

"But, you'll live, right?" He needed to be sure.

"Maybe." Melchior's breath caught.

"Almost definitely, if I start improving in the next few days. But I don't know if I want to. Not if it means staying here all my life. Becoming old and numb like the rest of them." She rushed through this, as if trying to get it all out before she lost her nerve.

He didn't tell her everything would be alright. He didn't tell her lies, didn't give false hope. Melchior just held her, let her cry, and told her that he loved her. That he always would. After she calmed down Wendla looked up at him, eyes filled with hope."Can we leave?"

"Not with you like this."

The hope slipped from her eyes, even though she must have already known the answer.

"I talked to my parents," He explained, "They've agreed to let me come home. I can stay there, and you here, until you're ready. "

"You say that Melchi, but what if it takes weeks? Months? I don't know if _I'll_ be able to stand this place that long. Why don't you go? Nothing's keeping you. You're not stuck like me."

" I will always wait for you." Those words captured his true devotion like "I love you." Never would.

"But you shouldn't have to." Wendla couldn't fathom why he would stay in this hell of a town for her.

"I will wait. Do you have so little faith?"

"Faith?" Her lips parted in a slight grin. "Really, Melchior, you haven't stepped foot in a church since you were eleven." He was glad to have made her smile again, if only for a moment.

"I have faith in more important things than a god. " Wendla rolled her eyes.

"For instance, I have faith that you'll recover. And I have faith that the instant you've gotten your strength back we'll leave."His voice was so, utterly honest when he said:"I promise you we'll get out of this place." That Wendla had to believe him.

He kissed her, square on the lips. That kiss told them both everything, made the situation clearer than words ever could.

"Wendla?" A voice asked from the hall.

XxX

Thanks to all my reviewers! Knowing someone actually reads my work and likes it makes writing this story so much easier.


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own Spring Awakening.

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, you make me want to write this story.

XxX

"Oh God." She murmured against his lips.

Wendla scrambled out of his arms, and whispered, tone panic stricken, "Hide."

Melchior moved faster than he ever had before, launching himself under the bed. The door slowly opened, and Frau Bergman walked in. She moved quietly, as if she were expecting Wendla to be sleeping and did not want to wake her.

"Wendla, why are you awake?" Frau Bergman asked, after seeing that Wendla was in fact conscious.

Thinking quickly, Wendla moaned."The pain…it came back." That wasn't a lie. The throbbing had returned. She guessed whatever the doctor had given her had worn off.

Frau Bergman's voice was filled with sympathy."Oh, dear heart." She sat on the corner of the Wendla's bed. "Would you like some water?" She reached forward, covering Wendla's forehead with her palm. Frau Bergman mistook the shudder of disgust Wendla gave at her touch to be one of discomfort. Wendla shook her head no, in answer to her mother's question.

"A blanket?" Frau Bergman rose, to fetch one.

"No." Wendla's voice was sharp. "I mean…I'll be fine, mother dear" She hoped her mother wouldn't notice her tone. "I just need to sleep." Wendla was becoming a better liar. _I learned it from you, "mother dear"._

"Oh. " Frau Bergman stood awkwardly be the bed for a moment. "Well, goodnight." She did not turn to leave. "Call for me, child, if the pain gets worse." It was almost more horrific, knowing that her mother could be this kind after what she had done.

Wendla forced herself to sound loving and obedient."Yes, Mama."

"Goodnight." Apparently Wendla's acting had been enough to appease her mother. Frau Bergman turned and left the room as quietly as she had come in.

XxX

Thank you for reading. Updates will be a little hectic in the next two weeks, because I have finals.


	8. Chapter 8

AN/ I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while, I had exams. And, as always, I do not own SA.

XxX

"That was close." He said, pulling himself out from under the bed, and sitting on the edge.

"Thank God she didn't see you." She laughed, in relief, and a tinge of uneasiness."We'd have both been put out on the streets."

This seemed to unnerve Melchior. "Maybe I should go?" He asked as if he wanted her permission to stay.

"No." was her quick response. "We can be careful. " Wendla tried to reassure Melchior, but her voice betrayed her nervousness. "She won't check on me again for a while now."

He sensed her anxiety."I better g-"

"Just stay for a while longer, Melchi." Wendla managed to keep her voice from cracking until she said his name. "Please, just give me that. I can't face her day and night without you." Wendla knew it was pathetic, to beg like this, but she needed him right now. Without him here to anchor her, she felt sure she would lose the battle she was currently fighting to keep her sanity.

"Don't worry; I can stay for awhile longer." Melchior didn't want to hurt her anymore. He had done enough already.

He lay down next to her, and Wendla wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest. They lay there in silence, just listening to the sound of each other's breath. After a few moments Wendla whispered, voice dripping with longing, "You know what I'd love to do tonight?"

"What?"

"Sleep," He smiled," With you," Melchior's smile only grew wider.

A voice rang out from the next room."What will we do, if she doesn't? She'll never marry if anyone finds out."Wendla's father all but yelled.

Frau Bergman sounded shocked."Are you saying-"

"Yes." Herr Bergman's voice was all business; cold and impersonal.

Wendla's eyes grew wide, terrified, and after a moment she said "I can't stay here, Melchi." It was worse, hearing her like this, he thought, because of the playfulness before.

"Just for a while, a little longer. " He didn't want to leave her here, but Melchior didn't see any other option."You need somewhere safe, where you can heal properly."

"But what if I'm not safe here?"

"You are." Melchior tried his hardest to comfort her, pulling his arms tighter around her middle.

"Did you hear them? It sounded like-" She stopped talking, abruptly and brought her lips to his. Melchior froze for a moment, before returning the kiss. It was unlike any other they'd shared before, Wendla's mouth moving fevered and desperate against Melchior's. Wendla's hands moved to the front of his shirt, bunching the fabric in her fists. Melchior's hands remained on her waist, where they had been resting since they had laid down. He seemed hesitant, and compared to her fervor, almost indifferent.

She tried to encourage him."Don't be afraid. You won't hurt me."

"You're still hea-"

"Melchi, I'm fine." She was tired of being treated like a china doll by everyone. Wendla thought Melchior understood that. He had earlier, anyway. He showed her that, once under the tree and again in the hayloft.

His voice was pained."I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't. I need this." Another explanation made its way into her head. "Unless you don't want to do this?"

"No, I do." He was shocked she would consider something like that." Trust me, I do. I just don't want to…I wouldn't want to…" Wendla had never heard him talk this way, so ineloquently."I should go, before we're caught." He sat up, and she moved enough to let him rise. Melchior climbed out of the bed, and made his way towards the window.

"Did I do something wrong?" She was on the verge of more tears.

" No. It's not you, it's just… Hearing them talk about you. I get so…". Melchior couldn't find the words. "I'll come back tomorrow night, ok? If you still want me to."

"Please come back."He didn't know whether she meant tonight of tomorrow. Still, he walked back to the side of the bed."I will. Always." He embraced her, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'll miss you." Wendla said, as she pulled back.

"Goodnight."

When he was gone, Wendla let herself be overcome by the emotions that had been threatening to break over the surface all day. The tears flowed for what felt like hours, until she was too exhausted to feel, and fell into a fitful sleep.

XxX

Just wanted to let you guys know, after June 13 this story won't be updated until July 3. I won't be able to post anything, but I'll be sure to keep writing so that I can post a mega-huge update when I can finally post again, instead of my usual tiny chapters. Thanks for sticking with the story!


	9. Chapter 9

She hadn't seen him for three days.

Every night she'd wait, staying up until the last stroke of midnight, in the hopes Melchior would knock on her window once again. Wendla was becoming restless.

When her mother would come in to check on her, Wendla no longer tried to hide her tears. She stopped pretending everything was fine. She wasn't a liar, and she wouldn't let her mother make her into one.

"Wendla?" Her mother asked, opening her door.

She waited for a response for a moment, until she realized none would come. "Are you feeling better, child?"

"A little." Wendla answered, voice flat.

"Just a little?" This seemed to worry Frau Bergman. "Should I call for the doctor, again?"

"No. Please don't." A little emotion came back into her voice. "I'm sure I'll be fine by next week."

And she was.

Not fine, exactly, but better. Wendla could walk without much pain, and she had stopped bleeding. Melchior still hadn't come back.

His absence this time was more painful. While he had been in the reformatory, Wendla knew it wasn't his choice. She knew he still cared for her. But now she couldn't be sure. She wondered if he had ever truly loved her, or even cared for her. Was she just a responsibility? Did he only come back because he felt obligated to? Now, with the obligation gone, was she just another girl?

These thoughts haunted her.

"Tonight, I'll know." The sound of her own voice frightened Wendla. She hadn't spoken for ages; her mind had been so consumed. But, she knew how to put an end to her confusion. Wendla would walk to Melchior's house, and ask him. She would do it at night, of course. Wendla couldn't have Frau or Herr Gabor seeing her. They might send Melchior off to the reformatory again, or worse, tell her mother.

She made her plans and went to sleep. Wendla still wasn't very strong, and would need the rest. She slept peacefully, knowing that she would see him soon and know.

Wendla left her house after midnight. She didn't know the time, exactly, but it had to be about one. She managed to climb out the window without incident, and only limped a little on the long walk.

She didn't even feel nervous until the house came into view.

Wendla walked to the far side of the house, where she knew Melchior slept. She hadn't been in his room since they were children, but she was still fairly certain she knew where it was. She took a deep breath and knocked on what she hoped was his window, grateful that it was on the first floor.

The window slid open almost instantly, revealing Melchior's shocked face. "Wendla?"

"Hello." Her voice was calmer than she expected it to be.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" She asked, avoiding his question.

Melchior knew she wouldn't give him an answer there."My parents are in the next room. Let's go out to the hayloft.", he suggested.

He climbed out the window, "Are you okay? The walk here must have been hard."

The concern in his voice reassured her."I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

Melchior saw the way she limped after a few steps. He put an arm around her, letting her lean on him for support. He lead her through the doors of the barn, over to one of the bales.

After she had sat down, Wendla got right to the point. "Why didn't you come back?"

"I wanted to." He answered. Seeing her look he went on. "Really, I did. But my parents started watching me closely. They almost caught me coming back. I couldn't handle that. They would have sent me to that reformatory again, and god knows what would have happened to you." He looked at Wendla, and tried to read her expression. He expected anger, but her face was stoic. Melchior decided to be completely honest. "And I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of you hating me, for what I did to you."He explained, voice cracking on the last word.

"What?" She asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"I shouldn't have…that night in the hayloft. This never would have happened if I hadn't made you-"

"You didn't _make_ me do anything." She interrupted; shocked that he would think that.

"You didn't know what we were doing."

"And you did?" Wendla said more loudly than she'd intended." It's not your fault." She drew back."If anyone's to blame it's my mother. She should have told me when I asked her. "

"But still…" He left off, unable to finish his sentence. They sat silently for a minute. Wendla moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around him. Melchior didn't draw away. She leaned in close and said. "Yes, you hurt me. But I don't hold it against you."

"Why don't you?" He asked, grasping for an understanding.

"I love you." She mirrored his honesty.

"That's a terrible reason." He said, before leaning down to kiss Wendla full on the lips.

XxX

I wanted this to end on a happier note. Not that the story's over, it's just taking a break until the 3rd of July. Please review, and thank you for reading.

I do not own Spring Awakening.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry about the delay. I got home on my scheduled day, but my TIPression(.net/wiki/TIPression) was a creative block.

XxX

Two months later…

Melchior let himself out of the house later than he would have liked. His parents had stayed up well into the night arguing about something- most likely their son.

His feet moved as quietly as they could on the soft grass; Melchior wouldn't risk running until he was well out of sight of the house. He was supposed to meet her now and still had a way to walk.

She was waiting by the tree on the edge of the graveyard that had become their meeting place. Wendla was braced against the back of the trunk, eyes skyward, staring at the stars. The old willow's mammoth branches twisted upwards towards the night sky, not quite managing to completely obstruct her view.

"They're beautiful tonight." He said, crossing over towards her.

Wendla's lips drew back into a wide, unashamed grin when she heard his voice."Hello Melchi." She sat fully upright and extended a hand that Melchior eagerly accepted, helping her to her feet.

"Have you been waiting long?"He didn't relinquish his hold on her hand. Wendla wrapped her free hand around his waist, drawing herself closer to him. Melchior released her hand, and returned her gesture.

"No." She replied, breath warm on his neck. "Not for you, anyway." Wendla stepped back, loosening her arm's hold, but not dropping it."It's been two months. Melchi, I'm ready."

He didn't meet her gaze. "I'm not-" Melchior stopped himself. He untangled himself from Wendla's arms, keeping hold of one. Melchior led her to the base of the tree a few steps away. He sat, and she followed suit, before stretching out beneath the tree and lying her head in Melchior's lap.

"Maybe we-" He paused again. Melchior let his hand trace her features before tangling in her hair. He didn't speak.

Wendla had enough of the silence. She sat up, and oriented herself so that she was sitting directly across from Melchior."We should leave, before it's too late." Her voice was more commanding than he'd ever heard it, but the last few words revealed how scared she really was.

"Just give me a week." Melchior bargained.

"You said that last-"

"Please?" He interrupted." I just want to make sure you're ready."

"I am." Wendla said, exasperated. "I've been fine for weeks."

"Are you sure?" Melchior's voice was heavy with concern.

"Certain. I haven't felt any pain, any discomfort, lately."

Her words hung in the air for what felt like hours.

Melchior finally broke the silence."Okay. We'll leave…next week."

She looked at him planning to argue, but upon seeing his expression she gave in."Promise me." Wendla answered, defeat coloring her voice.

He put an arm around her, in an attempt at comfort. "I do. We'll get out."Wendla put her small hands onto the sides of his face, and drew herself up to press her lips to his. Melchior returned her kiss. She deepened it, pulling him even closer. Her hands moved to the collar of his shirt, where they began work unbuttoning it.

XxX

I hope you'll forgive my lateness (and this short chapter). I promise you loads of fluff in the next update (which will happen soon. I promise.).

And if you're following my other story, that will also be updated shortly.


	11. Not a new chapter, just news

Well, it's been awhile. I've really missed writing this, and missed getting all of your lovely feedback. I've recently received a few reviews, asking for updates and all that jazz, so I've decided to come back. I'm currently writing the newest chapter, and it will be up by this time next week. Thanks for sticking around!


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